


The Tilly Special

by silveradept



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Ice Cream, Tilly Ships Lorca/Terral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 09:59:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13408842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/pseuds/silveradept
Summary: Tilly tries to learn more about Michael, but doesn't get the answers she expects.





	The Tilly Special

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopefulNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/gifts).



"It must be weird being you," Tilly had said to her once. "Being human, but raised on Vulcan, and then joining Starfleet. It's like you never got the opportunity to have a home and family."

Cadet Tilly had apologized for insensitivity, but Michael had to admit her logic was reasonable. The probabilities of her own life's events happening were so small that it was, as Tilly had put it, weird.

Sarek had not said much about the concept of family, preferring to stay as far away from things that could have had emotional content. Amanda had routinely upbraided Sarek about leaving her to do all the emotional labor in raising the children, a position that had become increasingly charged with anger as Michael had grown and shown the aptitude and Vulcan sensibilities that had earned her a place in the Vulcan Science Academy.

"Michael?" Tilly said again. "You looked lost in thought. Well, you looked like you were thinking, anyway. You don't seem like the person who gets lost in your thoughts as much as the person who looks at them from behind forcefields."

"I am not an artificial life-form," Michael replied. "I cogitate like other beings, have memories and act on them."

Tilly laughed, another of her illogical reactions. "I wasn't calling you a gynoid, Michael. I was saying that it's very hard to tell what you're thinking."

"Why don't you ask?" Michael said.

"Because every time I do, you tell me, and it's never 'I still have nightmares of Georgiou dying,' 'why is nobody writing stories where Captain Lorca and Admiral Terral are having kinky sex with Lorca blindfolded to protect his eyes,' 'my day at work was horrible, Tilly, let's have a beer and talk about it,' or 'if Stamets wasn't both gay and committed, I'd be all over him in a heartbeat. I need ice cream to get over my feelings.'"

The more Tilly spoke, the less Michael understood. Some part of that confusion must have registered, because Tilly took a second look at Michael.

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you've never had ice cream," she said.

"I have had ice cream," Michael stated matter-of-factly. "Amanda was known to enjoy a bowl on occasion. I believe it was...the closest Terran equivalent is peppermint-flavored."

Tilly's eyes widened in clear horror at this fact. "No, that doesn't count as ice cream at all! Stay here," she commanded, and disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a monstrosity covered in whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, various forms of nuts, and several cherries.

"Do you have any allergies?" she asked.

"No," Michael replied.

"Good. I call this the Tilly Break-up Special," the cadet said. "Don't ask, just eat."

"This is at least a day's allotment of caloric content--" Michael began before Tilly daubed a large portion of whipped cream on Michael's nose by hand. 

"Not the point. This is for enjoyment and recovery when your heart gets broken. You can run as many laps as you want afterward. Now, eat up before I shove it down your throat."

Michael took the offered spoon and examined the sundae for the best part to maintain its structural integrity before taking a small spoonful of ice cream and consuming it.

It was ice cream.


End file.
